26 Jun 2018

Me:
Ugh, I have to get the seven-year-old ready for school. I think you might be
verrrrry hungry since you haven't eaten breakfast yet. Here, have a peach.

Her:
Oh yeah! SO hungry. [Sigh. Eats peach.]

Ten minutes later.

Her:
Waaaaaaaa! I need uppy and nursing!!

Me:
Ugh. I was planning to try to do stuff, and things. So many things. Oh, I know
what it is. You're super hot in those fleece-lined winter pants you picked out.
How about we help you find something cooler to wear?

Continuing
on with this series of posts, I recently interviewed another trans woman, Jenna.
She talked to me about her experiences with breastfeeding and raising her two
children, whom we’ll call S and A, with her partner, E.

I’m
so grateful to Jenna for sharing her story on this blog. I believe it is deeply
important to tell these stories so that others in the trans community who might
be dreaming of being parents one day can access this information and know that
they are not alone. Thank you, Jenna!

Banking Gametes

Seven years ago, Jenna knew she might
someday want to have kids that were genetically related to her. She chose to
store her genetic material before she began taking estrogen as part of her
transition. I asked her if she had any tips about banking gametes.

Jenna: Think about where you’re going to
store your sperm in terms of where you might eventually want to use it for
insemination. I didn’t do the research. It
wouldn’t have been very hard for me to reach out and ask lesbian parents –
which clinics are the good clinics, where did you conceive your child? Instead
I went by location and I just went to the closest sperm bank to my apartment at
the time. It turned out that we picked one of the worst sperm banks in our city
in terms of being queer-friendly.

When we tried to use the sperm we thought,
well, it’s already there, we might as well use this clinic, but we had some
really bad experiences. In the end, we packed up our sperm in liquid nitrogen and
moved it to another clinic. It
was a big difference, and it all started with where I chose to store my sperm.

Jenna
explained that the first clinic she and her partner used was very
male-dominated. Doctors and staff seemed uncomfortable with transgender people
in general, and they misgendered Jenna. A doctor doing an insemination procedure for Jenna’s
partner, E, didn’t make eye contact beforehand, and left the patient with the
light on and equipment still between her legs when he exited the room
afterwards. At the new clinic, there
was a greater diversity of clients, more female staff, and a more
respectful attitude on the part of the doctors.

Why Breastfeed?

Jenna: I always thought breastfeeding was
an important connection to have with a child. Because I couldn’t carry the
child, I thought it was going to be the next best thing. I’d seen many people
have that connection through nursing. That felt like something I needed to do. I
knew it was possible for trans women to breastfeed, but I didn’t know much
about how to do it.

Preparing for
Breastfeeding

Midwife
Alanna Kibbe referred Jenna and E to the Newman Breastfeeding Clinic in Toronto
to learn about inducing lactation and breastfeeding. She had referred
transmasculine clients there in the past and knew the clinic was welcoming of
LGBT families.

Jenna: My timeline was that I’d been on
estrogen therapy for 14 months before I had bottom surgery. I had my operation
and stopped producing testosterone, and then our first baby was born three
months later. It was a whirlwind. I received my papers for my legal change of
sex only weeks after our baby was born. I’m technically her father, and there’s no way
the government will change that. So I’m legally our first child’s father, and
our second child’s mother.

Anyway, when I induced lactation, I was not
producing testosterone. They put me on a protocol similar to adoptive mothers,
which seems so obvious, but it wasn’t obvious to most other providers I’d
talked to. It’s really not that big of a deal. It’s the same thing that other
non-gestational mothers – cisgender females – would do to induce lactation.

About two months before the birth, I was
put on high doses of progesterone in the form of birth control pills. Then I
stopped taking the progesterone three weeks before the birth, and I began
pumping. I pumped about three times a day, although I was supposed to do more
than that according to the protocol for inducing lactation.

Jenna
explained that her endocrinologist had prescribed only estrogen for her at the
time of her transition, not progesterone. Her progesterone was prescribed later
by the lactation professionals. Similar to Sarah*, the other trans woman I
interviewed with regard to breastfeeding, Jenna wonders if the common regime of
estrogen-only for trans women is an over-simplification of the endocrine system.
She suspects there may be health benefits to taking progesterone, outside of
lactation.

Breastfeeding the
New Baby – Sharing Breastfeeding and Managing the Milk Supply

Since
Jenna’s partner was giving birth and planning to breastfeed, the couple needed
to coordinate breastfeeding together. Milk production works on the principle of
supply and demand, meaning that as milk is removed from the body, the body
receives the signal to produce more milk. If less milk is removed than what the
baby is consuming (for example, if the baby is being given supplemental bottles
or if another parent is breastfeeding the baby), then milk production will
likely decrease. I asked Jenna how she and her partner worked with this.

Jenna: I didn’t produce a lot of milk. I
knew from the pumping. I’d get a few tablespoons, or maybe an ounce at a time. But
I was able to nurse. I nursed my baby for about six weeks. Lactation
consultants were worried about how my nursing might affect my partner’s supply,
but it turned out that my partner had an oversupply of milk. So it didn’t play much of a role in her nursing experience. I was
producing pretty small quantities so for a while it felt more like I was a
human pacifier than actually giving many nutrients to this baby.

We joked that the baby would drink all four
boobs – she’d go through all four of them and still be hungry, or still appear
hungry. It was convenient for both of us to be able to nurse. In the birth
centre, the day she was born, I nursed her in the rocking chair while E was
getting stitched up from the birth, which was a pretty nice co-parenting
experience. My partner was able to let go of the baby and know that she was getting the skin-to-skin timeand the nursing and everything while she had to get stitched up,
which is a relatively common occurrence after birth.

We were both working a lot that summer on
our farming business. So I would nurse the baby but E would still nurse every two
hours. On a half-day shift, I’d bring the baby to E so she could nurse her, but
then I’d also nurse her in the off hours as well.

My nursing experience was really tainted by
the fact that my partner produced so very much milk. I feel like it would have
been a different experience if we’d had twins or if my partner had a low
milk supply, and if there was more of a need for my milk. It was a lot of work
to maintain my milk supply. I wasn’t getting up and pumping in the night. I was
nursing sometimes in the night, but not as regularly as E was, and E had milk
literally pouring out of her. And it was like, well, I’m enjoying the
experience, and I feel like I had the experience for the first six weeks, but
it didn’t seem like it was going to be a long-term viable situation.

Latching
Challenges

Jenna: I found it difficult to latch her because I
have quite small breasts, and quite small nipples. I was always doing the sandwich techniqueand I was restricted to quite precise nursing positions. Whereas, E
could lie on her side and the baby would nurse from her, and E really didn’t
have to hold on to one of her breasts and pinch it to get a good latch. The
only position that worked for me was sitting in a chair with one arm grasping
the back of the baby’s head and neck and my other hand pinching my boob.

I think it would have been different if I
had more tissue there. My breasts have grown significantly in the last year. It
took me four to five years of hormone therapy until I felt like I saw some
significant breast growth, which isn’t too big of a surprise. But I think all
trans women want it to happen in the first month, the first year.

For
me (Trevor), as a transmasculine person who had chest surgery before my
children were born, I can relate to Jenna’s challenges with latching. I’ve
never been able to nurse comfortably while lying on my side, even after six
years of nursing babies. As my babies grew bigger and stronger, I eventually no
longer had to make a “sandwich” for them to latch, but I continue to need to hunch over a bit so
that my chest tissue isn’t too taut.

Baby Number Two

I
asked Jenna if she nursed her second baby as well.

Jenna: Almost not at all. She latched on
one night when I was alone with her during a crying fit, and it really hurt.
Because of my partner’s milk supply and with A being born at the height of farming season, it didn’t
make much sense to nurse. I didn’t want to do the work. Even though I loved the
experience with my first and I’ll cherish that forever, it wasn’t totally the
experience I was looking for. Again, I think it was because of my partner’s
over-production, and her strong desire to nurse, as well. It didn’t make much
sense for me to change my hormone therapy, to spend the time pumping.

In the end, E didn’t take much maternity
leave at all, and I spent most of the winter with the baby after farming season
was over. I was on parental leave for nine months. Even now that she’s a toddler,
and I’m still the one that’s here for her every night and every morning. I’m
developing a different connection.

It’s rare that I spend a night away from these kids, which is good and
bad. I’m hoping as they get older, it’ll be easier to get away from them a bit
more. It’s clear that S really doesn’t like it when I’m not here. When she
comes home from daycare and I’m not here, she doesn’t like it. That’s the
connection I’m enjoying with her, and that I have with our second child, A, too.

I’m an important person in A’s life even if
I don’t nurse. We have our battles on the nights when E’s not here, but I put A
to sleep every night. That was one of my biggest fears before I had children. I
saw so many heterosexual couples where the male father couldn’t even get their
kids to sleep at night. And I saw these mothers that were totally overwhelmed because they could never
get a night away from their children because nobody else could put them to
sleep. In our family, it’s really me, I’m the one that puts my baby to
sleep every night, even though I don’t nurse. That’s really important for me.

The birthing parent in our case is the one
that works outside the home and is more career-driven. Clearly she still has
this other bond with the toddler that I don’t have, in terms of the comfort
that is sought out from nursing. I can see when she wants to nurse, and I can
replace it pretty well with a bottle of breast milk. We’re trying to slowly
wean our toddler, especially at night, so I try to use the milk from the
freezer sparingly.

Learning from the
Experience

I wondered
if Jenna had any advice for other trans women who would like to breastfeed.

Jenna: You have to prepare. A trans woman
has to prepare for breastfeeding when gestation starts, when the partner or
surrogate becomes pregnant. You need to give yourself those nine months. Before
pregnancy begins, you have to know about the hormonal protocol and know when
you’re going to start it.

And it’s a lot of work. It’s not easy. I
don’t want to take away from cisgender women’s experiences, but sometimes for
cis women, breastfeeding seems easy. I know that’s not true for all cis women,
but for many, milk production is this natural thing that happens without extra
effort. For trans women, you have to put in some effort to make it happen.

Another tip would be to get a good electric
breast pump! And to pay for the little attachment that holds the breast pump to
your breasts so that you can have your hands free.

Confronting a Myth

Jenna: I came up against this idea from
lactation consultants that the birthing parent’s milk is the best milk and that
co-nursing might have negative impacts on the baby or on the birthing mother.
This came out quite obviously in a prenatal course at the birth centre, when
the lactation consultant there made a stern comment towards our situation. She
presented this idea that the birthing parent’s milk is formulated specifically
for the baby. That’s not untrue, but in contrast, the opinion we received at
the Newman clinic was that a diversity of milk would actually be beneficial to
the baby. Yes, the birthing parent’s milk is great for the baby, but that
doesn’t mean other milk isn’t beneficial as well. Of course, I liked the latter
opinion the best. I think the “mother’s milk is best” type attitude was more
about discomfort with co-nursing and maybe discomfort with a trans woman
nursing, but it was scapegoated onto the baby’s health.

Scientists
do know that breast milk changes in terms of its fat, protein, carbohydrate,
and antibody content as a baby matures, and even over the course of a feeding, or from one feeding to another. However, we don’t know for sure how all
that happens. One theory is that the breastfeeding parent receives biofeedback from thebaby’s saliva through their nipples. If the baby is fighting off an infection, the parent’s body reacts
by producing specific antibodies in the milk to help. If this theory is correct,
then surely a trans woman who didn’t give birth to her baby would still receive
this biofeedback through saliva while nursing. If two mothers co-nurse their
baby, the baby would benefit from a greater diversity of antibodies.

1 May 2017

The first night that my little one
slept in his own room, he went down without any crying and he stayed on his own
all night long! He did the same thing the next night. It was a miracle, the
details of which I must share.

Sleep is really important to me, as a
parent and as a human being. I’ve noticed that when I don’t get enough sleep, I
have less patience for my kids (and others) and I feel generally irritable. I’m
a better parent when I’ve had a decent amount of sleep.

So how did the magic happen? What did we
do?

Sleep training for us happened in two
parts.

Sleeping at night without
nursing (night weaning).

Sleeping in his own room.

I’ve seen posts about infants crying so
hard they vomited and parents who said it was “worth it” to “teach” the baby
how to sleep. From what I can glean, the idea is to teach them that no one is going to pick them up so
they might as well stop crying and get used to being on their own all night.

My experience was different.

Our kid slept in our bed with us from birth. When he cried, I nursed him. At times when that didn’t work, I’d pick him
up and walk him up and down the stairs or even down the street until I got him back
to sleep. Then we’d go back to bed together.

When our second baby was born, the first
kiddo had to learn to wait to have his nighttime needs taken care of. That was the
beginning of night weaning for him. If he cried, he often woke up the newborn,
which meant I’d have to nurse her
before I could help him get back to sleep. He started to understand, and got
pretty good at waiting patiently. Soon enough, he started to fall back to sleep
while I was still settling the newborn. Then he started sleeping through the
night without waking up to nurse or cuddle at all. He was about four years old.

For the next few years, we all slept
together on our king-sized bed.

Something big changed for our son when he
turned six. He seemed to have an instant developmental leap and was
suddenly much more mature. He went from fighting constantly with his sister as
if he, too, were a toddler, to rolling his eyes and exchanging knowing glances
with me if little sister was having a particularly toddleresque moment.

It also became apparent that child #1
needed a space to keep his own things. The toddler tried to scribble in his
workbook and ripped apart his carefully-made projects. We began talking with our son about having his own room with some shelving and drawers for his
favourite books and toys. He was thrilled!

Great, we thought. But would he want to
sleep in it? I knew I was ready to no longer be kicked at night by a
six-year-old, but how would he feel sleeping alone?

He was excited!

My partner took the kids for an adventure
to Ikea where they tried out all the kid mattresses by jumping on them. Our son
chose the springiest one, with cheerful red sheets to go on it. We set it up at
home with a nightlight. At bedtime, my partner read him a book and told him a story, as per
usual, and the kid fell asleep.

It is truly brilliant to witness a child
doing something for the first time exactly
when they are ready for it. You get to see their interest and curiosity, as
well as the joy and confidence that come from figuring it all out. My child felt proud.

When my son was an infant, friends told me
that I had to "teach" him how to sleep or he’d “never learn”, that he’d be in our
bed “forever.” Six years might seem like a long time, but a six-year-old child
is still a little kid. And that’s okay by me.

I bet I can guess a question that might have popped into your head, though, if you read this far:How do you have intimate time with your partner if you're co-sleeping with kids?The kids go to sleep a while before we do, and our home has more than one room. So we hang out elsewhere, sometimes sitting on the downstairs couch, chatting (but more likely looking at our respective Facebook feeds, "liking" each other's posts). Or... you know. When we are ready to sleep, we join the kids in bed.Did you find this post helpful or entertaining? This blog is not ad-supported, so please consider making a donation using the button on the side.

13 Apr 2017

The popular children’s song by Raffi,
called “Like Me And You” is supposed to be about how we’re all alike. For years
it has irritated me to no end. My family loves Raffi, particularly his song, “Baby
Beluga”, but Raffi doesn’t love us. He shows no sign of ever having considered
a family like ours. “Like Me And You” names children from countries around the
world, saying “Each one is much like another / The child of a mother and a
father”.

When my son was about two years old and we
listened to the song for the first time, we paused after that lyric to explain
that Raffi forgot our family. And then we proceeded to sing loudly on each
repetition, “The child of a DADA and a PAPA”.

It’s important for children who belong to
marginalized or underrepresented communities to have access to books and other media with
characters that are like them and their families. I’m a transgender guy in a
gay relationship, and I want my kids to read books that include two-mom or two-dad
families, or characters who express their gender as non-binary or trans.

I also desperately want my kids’ friends
who come from typical mom-and-dad families to see families like mine reflected
in the literature they read. Kids notice everything. All our kids will notice
if every single book they read is about a family with a mom and a dad, and they
will naturally extrapolate that families like mine, which are not in the books,
are lesser than, not worth featuring.

The same goes for race, ethnicity, culture,
and (dis)ability. Kids notice skin colour, whether parents like it or not. If
all the good guys on TV are white, and the bad guys are Black, kids will absorb
that and it will become part of their worldview.I need my able-bodied, neurotypical white
kids with blue eyes and blond hair to access books that feature main characters
including those in wheelchairs, or who are nonverbal, who are indigenous and
people of colour. This is one of my most important parenting jobs in my journey
to raise decent, anti-racist (simply non-racist is not good enough) human
beings.

Today I’m writing in celebration of my
little collection of diverse children’s books, magazines, and music. I have
built it thoughtfully over the last few years. It is by no means exhaustive but
I do feel that each work on this list is valuable in its own right as a piece
of literature and art, as well as including and centering marginalized voices.
Sometimes it can be hard to tell from a glance online whether a “diverse” book
is truly as diverse as it claims, or even if the story, writing, and
illustrations are decent. I hope that sharing some of the legwork I’ve done
will be helpful to others.

Do
you have favourite diverse kids’ books not on this list? Please mention them in
the comments!

Indigenous

All the books on this list have
indigenous authors. (Yes, white people are still publishing books about
indigenous people written by white people. Beware of those.)

Sometimes I Feel
Like a Fox by Danielle Daniel

Ages 2 and up

This book is dedicated “to the thousands of
Métis and Aboriginal children who grew up never knowing their totem animal.”
Each page spread depicts a different totem animal in the Anishinaabe tradition
and describes the animal’s character.

My toddler, like many her age, loves
animals. “Fox Book”, as she calls it, was her first true favourite book. My
6-year-old gets a lot out of the rich, descriptive vocabulary, including words
like, “confident”, “purposeful”, “delicate,” and “intuitive.”

Singing, drumming, baking bannock, and
holding hands are among the beautiful (and easy to sound out!) activities that
“fill my heart with happiness.” My toddler loves it and my six-year-old is
capable of reading it to her. Win/win. Illustrations show kids who indigenous
children will notice look like themselves.

This booklet states it may be copied for
educational, non-commercial purposes with appropriate credit given to the
publisher, so you can order a copy and share with friends. Each page spread
depicts a different indigenous dwelling and includes a written explanation of
the dwelling’s features. We’ve read it and looked at it at length with our
six-year-old because there is so much to explore, but he hasn’t coloured in it
yet.

The Raven and the
Loon by Rachel and Sean Qitsualik-Tinsley, illustrated by Kim Smith

An Inuit story told by Inuit story-tellers.
A toddler can begin to grasp the narrative through the bright pictures and
direct emotional language, but there’s plenty going on to keep my six-year-old
interested.

The Thundermaker
written and illustrated by Alan Syliboy

Most amazing illustrations ever! The artist
lives in Millbrook First Nation in Nova Scotia, and draws inspiration from the
Mi’kmaw petroglyph tradition as well as mixed-media work. In this story, Little
Thunder learns about the importance of making thunder for his people, and makes
some dramatic mistakes along the way. The simple sentences are packed with
action, like throwing around thunderbolts, holes that open up to swallow
monsters, and animals and objects that change form.

The Rainbow
Serpent by Dick Roughsey

I picked up this book at an airport in
Australia. It was the only book in the store about an aboriginal story that
wasn’t written by some white guy descended from colonizers. Despite being
published by an imprint of HarperCollins, it has a few obvious typos.
Nevertheless, my six-year-old and I LOVE this book. It tells an exciting story,
in Aboriginal tradition of Australia, about how the land was formed into the
hills and mountains of today, and how some people turned into different species
of animals. The narrative explains that since animal species originated from humans,
we must always protect them; these animals came from us and are our relatives.
This offers a way of understanding the human relationship to the environment
that contrasts sharply with assumptions inherent in capitalist,
Christian-dominated society.

Missing Nimama by Melanie Florence, Illustrated by Francois Thisdale

Parents need to pre-read this one before
deciding if it is appropriate for their kid. The story is about a child whose
mother is missing, like far too many missing and murdered aboriginal women in
Canada. The narrative shifts perspective subtly between the child, the missing
mother, and the grandmother in a way that will probably be confusing for most
kids under age eight or so. I hand this book (and a tissue) to most adults who
come to visit us. It’s a hard, sad read that we absolutely must read to bring
awareness to the crisis of missing and murdered aboriginal women. This book
reminds us that these women have families – they are daughters, sisters, and
mothers who are deeply missed.

When the Rain
Sings: Poems by Young Native Americans edited by Lee Francis

The poems in this collection, published in
1999, were written by Native kids ages 7 to 17. These young poets tackle a wide
range of topics from sunshine, sunset, and raindrops to missing family members,
changing or lost culture, and police. A photograph accompanies each poem
(examples include a traditional cradleboard, a camp scene from 1890, and
dancers in 2006). One direct and brutally honest poem by a 17-year-old begins
with, “My name belongs to a dead white woman. How it got down to me?” The poet
goes on to describe the meaning of her aboriginal name, Spotted Feather.

LGBT

Daddy, Papa and
Me, by Leslea Newman, Illustrated by Carol Thompson

Daddy, Papa, and Me are a Caucasian,
two-dad family that have a busy day full of activities. By the end of it, Daddy
and Papa are exhausted. This board book has decent rhymes and is suitable for
babies, toddlers or kids learning to read and sound out simple words.

Based on a true story about two male
penguins that hatched an egg and raised a chick together at a zoo in Central
Park, New York City. The illustrations are beautiful, and the story is
interesting and informative. The human families depicted visiting the zoo are
ethnically diverse.

What Makes a Baby,
by Cory Silverberg, Illustrated by Fiona Smyth

We relied heavily on this book to explain
the creation of baby number two to our first child. Silverberg explains about
the uterus, sperm, and eggs, but doesn’t connect them to genders or “mommy” and
“daddy.” What Makes a Baby works for
everyone, including folks who make their families using assisted reproductive
technology or surrogacy, as well as lesbian couples and transgender men who
carry a pregnancy. The narrative also explains both vaginal (“through a part of
the boy that most people call the vagina”) and surgical births.

My only (slight) complaint has to do with
consent and medical procedures. One sentence in the book reads, “Sometimes a
midwife or a doctor will be the one to say it is time for the baby to be born.”
Ideally, I’d prefer a more nuanced phrasing that includes some mention of the
parent whose body is doing the gestating and birthing.

The music on this album is of such decent
quality that the professional musicians in our household can mostly tolerate
the fact that the toddler insists on listening to it on repeat in the car (for
months now). Musical styles include hip-hop, pop, folk, and disco. For those
who need to know, the pitch and rhythm are excellent and phrasing is capable.

The songs celebrate gender diversity and
also provide kids with some words to deal with dogma they might encounter. For
example, a kid on one track explains that, “there’s no such thing as boy
colours or girl colours.” Songs also mention historical figures who challenged
norms and changed our society.

We’ve been listening to Rainbow Train for a few years, and the
kids get more and more out of it as they mature. Both my kids thought for a
LONG time that the lyric “gender, gender gender, put it in a blender” was all
about blending up some ginger. I recently explained to the six-year-old that
the lyric is, in fact, GENDER, and we talked about the difference between
gender and sex.

(Dis)Ability

Gina’s Wheels, by Mary Harelkin Bishop

Gina’s Wheels addresses disability
explicitly. As in, the whole book is entirely focused on disability, which is
okay-ish, though I ought to hunt around for some books that simply include
disabled characters being who they are.

Gina, an able-bodied young girl with orange
hair, becomes fascinated with wheelchairs after meeting the Paralympian Colette
Bourgonje. We learn about Colette’s injury and her tremendous athletic
achievements, which, again, is okay-ish. However, I need to find some stories
with disabled characters that aren’t all about achieving physical prowess
despite disability (known as the disabled hero, or “supercrip” narrative).

When Gina goes to kindergarten and meets a
classmate in a wheelchair, she is ready to be friends. D’aww. The classroom
includes a girl wearing a hijab and a Black boy, but they don’t say words or
have roles in the narrative. All the main characters are Caucasian.

Hmmm.

Books that fit
into more than one category!!!

What?! What will we do?

Yes, it’s true. There are some books that
celebrate a wonderful range of diversity on more than one level.

Everywhere Babies, by Susan Meyers, illustrated by Marla Frazee

This sweet board book is lovely for babies,
toddlers, kids who are learning to read, and those expecting new siblings. The
text highlights all the different ways that babies are loved and cared for by
their families and caregivers. The illustrations include two mom and two dad
families, grandparent caregivers, teenage caregivers, and male caregivers in
addition to the more common mom-and-dad family unit. There are depictions of
Asian, Brown, Black (some with natural African hairstyles), and Caucasian
children and families. One of my favourite pages describes the many ways babies
are fed, including pictures of breastfeeding, bottlefeeding, cup feeding, spoon
feeding, and beginning solid foods (along with giant messes!).

Under the Love Umbrella by Davina Bell, Illustrated by Allison Colpoys

This is a story about feeling connected to
our loved ones, when we are excited, scared, shy, hesitant, tired, or even
apart. No matter where you are, you’re always under your loved one’s “love
umbrella”. The illustrations are bright and detailed. The main characters
depicted include people of colour and a two-mom family.

KAZOO Magazine

This is sold as a “magazine for girls age 5
to 10”, but we all need to get it for our boys, too. My boy needs to see
representations of strong, intelligent, creative, powerful women just as much
as my girl does. If we’re ever going to improve on our patriarchal rape
culture, surely we must educate our boys.

I LOVE this mag. It comes out 4 times per
year and includes stories, poems, articles, word puzzles, colouring, and lots
of suggested activities. Every item in the magazine is girl or woman-focused.
For instance, January’s issue was all about building stuff, and included an
interview with a female engineer.

The editor’s approach is obviously
intersectional, and care is taken to include women from typically
underrepresented groups. In the last issue we received, a story featured a girl
in a wheelchair as a main character. Unlike Gina’s
Wheels, disability was not the focus of the story, but was incorporated
into the narrative. As readers, we got a sense of how disability made the
girl’s lived experience different from the world of able-bodied folks – without
making her into a rarified hero or a pitiful dependent.

Fair warning to parents: My 6-year-old
needs plenty of help in reading this mag and trying out the various projects.
There’s lots to discuss and not much that he can do alone at his age.

Did you find this post helpful or entertaining? Please consider donating to Trevor's blog using the button on the side.

Followers

Diclaimer

This blog is not intended to provide medical advice. It is meant to be fun and maybe informative. It’s based on my personal experience. I’m not a doctor or health care provider of any kind. For medical advice, please go see your health care provider. Furthermore, just because what I describe here worked for me and my family does NOT mean it will necessarily work for you and yours. Again, this is my personal experience.